


Calm After the Storm

by Lumelle



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Eloping, F/M, Happy Ending, Hypothermia, Pregnancy, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 13:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6705988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumelle/pseuds/Lumelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fleeing from Erebor to be together, Kíli and Tauriel make it almost to Rivendell before they are caught in a snowstorm in the mountains. There is only so much cold a dwarf can take, and Tauriel is almost driven to despair when the storm saps Kíli's strength.</p><p>The elves from Rivendell may find them in time, but making it out of the storm is only the beginning -- particularly when spring brings a certain daughter of Thráin, and Tauriel may be hiding a tiny little complication, herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calm After the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Of the names in this fic, Hiili is Finnish for "coal".
> 
>  **Please note** that this fic contains description of hypothermia as well as permanent damage to body extremities due to frostbite. Please read accordingly.

It was, of course, a foolish venture from the start.

Only a fool or someone desperate would try to cross the Misty Mountains during the winter months. Of course, they were probably a bit of both, and in love besides, which was well known to lead people to less than advisable actions.

Not that Tauriel wouldn't have loved to have another alternative. However, she knew perfectly well they were short on choices, and time wasn't in too rich a supply either. Erebor would not have them, Mirkwood would not tolerate them, and the wilderness beyond was no place to wait out the winter. A quick trip through the mountain pass, with breaks for only what was necessary, and they would soon be in Rivendell. There they could catch their breath and get more supplies before heading on, of that she was certain. Lord Elrond had showed his hospitality to a dozen dwarves and then some, if Kíli was to be trusted, and she had no reason not to believe him. Surely he would not turn away two weary travellers.

As luck would have it, the storm hit just as Tauriel was sure they were approaching Rivendell.

They had encountered snow before, of course, had weathered one or two such storms in little caves up on the mountain and not been any worse for the wear, aside from some frustration at being so hindered. This time, however, the storm seemed determined to stop them in their tracks entirely, the freezing winds so strong Tauriel half feared they might be torn off from the mountain entirely.

Kíli seemed determined to continue on at first, and really, there was little else they could do, with no shelter in sight when the storm struck. They wrapped their clothes tighter around themselves and soldiered on despite the freezing cold and the blinding snow that was at times thick enough that the only reason Tauriel knew she hadn't lost Kíli entirely in the whiteness was a short rope tying them together. It wasn't good, though, even she could feel the cold seeping into her body, and Kíli had to be feeling it even more keenly. They needed to find somewhere to hide from the storm.

She knew good things of the resilience of dwarves, had heard boasting of such and seen it in Kíli's tireless steps along the road, but it seemed this storm was determined to break through any such endurance. As they found a small outcropping that allowed them some respite from the wind, if only standing up, Tauriel took the opportunity to dig out some of their rations from their bags. Her dwarf would not make it much farther without sustenance.

"Here," she said, not even sure if he heard her above the howling wind. Whether or not Kíli heard her, at least he saw her offering him some of the smoked meat they had been saving for a particularly harsh day. If this situation did not merit such treats, Tauriel wasn't sure what would. Kíli seemed to agree, as he pulled his scarf down just enough to expose his mouth, though she couldn't help but notice how pale he was underneath, his lips tinted blue as he hungrily attacked the meagre meal.

She longed to warm him, to hold him close and breathe new life into him, but they had no time for such foolish dreams.

They continued on after their small break, and Kíli seemed to have regained some of his energy. Her hope, renewed by this sight, was nevertheless destroyed not too long after as she realised his steps were faltering. She had just considered asking him to stop, fearing the exhaustion was grabbing hold, as he very nearly stepped right off the side of the path. She caught him at the last moment, drawing him close to her chest.

"Kíli?" She had to nearly shout to break through the howling of the wind. "Kíli, are you all right?"

"T-tauriel?" Kíli tried to look at her, she could tell, but his gaze did not quite meet his. "I don't… what are we…"

"Kíli?" This wasn't good. Her knowledge in the matters of healing was quite limited beyond injuries that might come up in the course of duty of the Greenwood Guard, and even more so when it came to mortal bodies. She knew cold was harmful, but not exactly what it might cause or how to combat it. "Kíli, beloved, come with me. We must find shelter."

Kíli was still moving, which she supposed was good, though she still had to more or less lead his steps, ever careful not to let him step afoul of the narrow path. Any shelter would have to do, however pitiful.

She did not have the luxury of being picky.

The cave she finally located was small, little more than a hole in the stone, just about high enough for her to sit up without hitting her head on the ceiling. However, it was mostly free from snow, the entrance angled so that the winds swept most of it right by them, and that was all she could hope for right now. Somehow she managed to lead Kíli into the cave despite his apparent disorientation, brushing away the worst of the snow.

She had no fuel to make a fire, nor anything else she could do to bring them warmth. The most she could do was block the entrance with their bags and some snow, leaving them in almost complete darkness. Spreading her own bedroll over the cold stone in the darkness she guided Kíli to sit down on it. Kíli didn't question her or protest as she started to run her hands over him, barely even reacted at all, and that made her desperately afraid.

Somehow Tauriel managed to peel off those of his clothes that were clearly wet, digging out replacements from their bags, as reluctant to leave him exposed to the cold air as she was to let him keep wearing his wet clothes. His hands were cold as ice as she carefully worked off his stiff gloves and replaced them with a set of thick socks she'd dug out from the bottom of Kíli's bag, hoping his fingers would be at least somewhat warmer together than each held separate in the glove. Finally, as his clothes had mostly been replaced with dry ones and he was lying on the bedroll, she spread both of their sleeping blankets over him. Fumbling in the darkness she got rid of her own wet clothes, then crawled underneath the blankets, pressing herself as close to Kíli as she could manage.

"Kíli, my love," she murmured, wrapping her arms around him as though she could will him into being warm and healthy again. "Kíli, please, stay with me."

He murmured something in response, but the words were too slurred for her to make out their meaning. Though then, she wasn't even sure he had spoken Westron in the first place.

At some point during the night the wind died down, not entirely but enough that the relative quiet seemed deafening in her ears. After a moment's hesitation, she crawled away from Kíli's too still form, digging through her bag until she found the horn Legolas had given her, along with one of her smaller knives. She quickly cut off the ribbon that served as a hanging loop for the horn, then climbed out of the entrance of the cave for long enough to find a crack in the stone to stick her knife into. She tied the ribbon onto the hilt of the knife, a poor little flag in the darkness. She stared at the ribbon wavering in the now weaker breeze for a long moment, then brought the horn to her lips, breathing deep of the cold, unforgiving night air.

The sound of the horn was lonely and deep, almost too loud in her fearful ears, yet as she crawled back into their shelter she found that Kíli had not stirred at all. As she brushed away the snow that had caught in her clothes and drew closer to him, she could barely even tell that he was still breathing.

Trying to shake off the fear that clutched at her heart, she crawled underneath the covers she had managed to gather, trying once again to wrap herself as completely around his still, cold form as she could manage. Somewhere deep beneath his clothes and skin she could only imagine was a heartbeat, slow and sluggish yet so incredibly stubborn.

Right now, all she could do was trust in that stubborn spirit and wait for dawn.

It was not dawn that caught her attention, though, but the sound of someone moving outside. She tensed, suddenly hoping she had kept some weapon close at hand. Would an animal be out in this weather? Or something even more foul?

Something or someone moved the bags at the entrance, and she tightened her arms around Kíli. "Who goes there?" If she pretended her voice didn't waver, perhaps others would believe it, too.

"We come from Rivendell." Never had she heard such welcome words, however faint they were against the howling wind. Even that wasn't quite as strong as before, giving her some hope that the storm might end. "Did you call for help?"

"Yes, oh, please." She shifted to draw Kíli even closer, as though that were possible, when the bags were moved further aside and someone crawled in. The next moment there was a most welcome light as someone brought in a lantern, revealing slim elven forms filling the small space of the cave.

"My lady." The elf who had come in first frowned as he noticed she wasn't alone. "And… companion?"

"Please, we need your help." She would beg if she needed to. "He is — we got caught in the storm, I think he was — please, he needs a healer…"

"We will do what we can." It wasn't the promise she would have liked, but if it was all she could get, she would take it.

The small cave was full of people now, more so than she might have thought possible. She was drawn away from Kíli, and almost protested, except there was someone examining her and no doubt someone doing the same for Kíli. The combined body heat was making the cave almost warm, but not quite enough to set her at ease.

"I need to ask you something." The first elf again, speaking to her, his voice quiet yet seeming to echo in the small space. "What is your connection to this… dwarf?"

"I am his wife." She met his gaze directly, daring him to question her declaration. It was true, after all, in any capacity that mattered. They had exchanged their vows and their love, and if there had been no witnesses, well, it still didn't change the truth of it. "Why so?"

"Peace, my lady." He shook his head. "I only ask because I wished to know if you would object to sharing a stretcher with the dwarf. We need to take him to the valley as soon as possible, but we need to keep him from losing any more heat on the way. If you would share the stretcher and the blankets with him, that would no doubt be better than anything else we can offer."

"Ah, of course. If you don't think that would be too much of a burden." Though truth be told, she feared to think of letting them take Kíli too far from her reach.

"Not at all, my lady." He inclined his head a bit. "If you don't mind me saying, you look like you could use the rest as well."

"It has been a rather long journey." She sighed, now. "Just… get him to safety, please."

"We will do so for both of you."

And with that promise, for all that it didn't actually give her much of a guarantee, Tauriel could finally give in to her own exhaustion.

*

The railing of the balcony was cool under her touch, yet Tauriel couldn't help gripping it tightly as she looked out into the hidden vale.

Not even Rivendell was exactly warm this time of the year, for all that its crisp air was a soothing balm on her skin after the frost and cold of the mountain pass. She might have even felt cold, either in lingering memory of the freezing night in darkness or from the breeze that wandered past her between the towers and balconies, if she hadn't been clad in a rather warm set of dresses and a shawl over her shoulders. It wasn't what she would have chosen to wear by herself, really, but she knew well enough that not even her kind were entirely impervious to cold, and when her own clothes had still been soaked from wind and snow she would have been a fool to refuse the shift and dress she had been loaned simply because it was not to her exact preferences.

Not that she could be truly warm before she knew how Kíli fared.

The healers had rushed him away as soon as they had arrived, and for all that Tauriel knew there was no finer care she could have hoped for, she couldn't help but feel anxious for her lack of knowledge. She had tried to follow, of course, but had been convinced to instead follow another set of healers, who had insisted on examining her as well. There had been a warm bath as well, and then the dry clean clothes and even a few blankets for her to warm herself under, yet she couldn't settle down as long as she had no word of Kíli.

"My Lady?"

Tauriel spun around, expecting to find one of the many elves of the Last Homely House bringing her food or perhaps just news, or a healer who no doubt might frown at her choice of heading out into the wind rather than warm herself up inside, not that the airy halls of Rivendell were truly that different from the balcony she was standing on. What she found was both and yet neither, and her eyes widened as she took in what could only be Lord Elrond himself. She had not seen him before — she was very young for her people, only six hundred years old, and he had not visited Mirkwood in much longer than that — but she could not mistake the sight of the serious-looking elf in fine robes and a beautiful circlet standing in the doorway to the room she had been shown, holding a tray with food in his hands.

"My Lord Elrond." She curtsied somewhat clumsily, not quite used to such things. Her role in Thranduil's court had been that of a guard; she did not bop up and down for anyone but the king himself and even then she would only bow, if that. This was quite different, though. She was a guest here, enjoying Elrond's hospitality, and quite possibly inviting the displeasure of not one but two kingdoms upon him simply by her presence. It would not do for her to be anything but polite. "I am sorry to have caused such trouble, my lord."

"Please, do not apologise. And truly, there is no need to be so formal. I assure you, I am rather less concerned with my position than Thranduil tends to be." Then, not even giving her time to come up with some sort of a response to this clearly scandalous statement, he walked further into the room, setting the tray down on a small table with a couple of chairs surrounding it. "Will you sit with me?"

"With all due respect, my lord, I would much rather see my companion, if you would allow."

"And I will take you to see him shortly. For now, though, I do believe my healers need another moment to work, and we might as well make use of that time. I believe you are in need of some sustenance, and there are some things I would like to ask you about." He indicated a seat next to the table, and this time there was a definite tone of order to his words. "Come, sit."

Tauriel was not quite foolish enough to try to argue with what was clearly a command, however politely worded. She walked over to take the indicated seat, with Elrond taking the one opposite to her. At his nod, she drew the tray closer to herself, picking up an apple and biting into it.

"I have been told you were found on the mountains in rather interesting company." Elrond's voice betrayed no judgement, hardly even surprise, but Tauriel was not about to mistake the lack of clear reaction for lack of opinion. "Would you care to tell me in your own words why one of Thranduil's elves would be traversing the mountains in this weather, in the company of a dwarf?"

"We are fleeing, my lord." There was no sense in hiding it, after all. "I will not lie to you. By sheltering us, you would probably invite the displeasure of King Thorin, and quite possibly that of King Thranduil."

"I think I will take that risk rather than break my hospitality." Elrond's eyebrows climbed up. "Would your flight have anything to do with the fact that I was told you claimed yourself as his wife?"

"Indeed." Tauriel cast her eyes down. "I… neither my people nor his would give their blessing to our union. We tried to appeal to them, but they would not listen. In the end, his brother helped us gather supplies and flee without detection, while my friend aided us in getting through the forest without being found by King Thranduil. We meant to head west, where his mother lives; he is convinced she would shelter us from the wrath of King Thorin."

"And then you ran into trouble."

"That we did." And she should have foreseen this, should have known things would not be so easy, and now Kíli was paying for her foolishness. "We thought we would make it through the pass, since there were only the two of us. However, we were caught in a storm at the last moment, and the cold grew too terrible for him."

"Indeed. I was told you were found rather close to the valley. If you had been a day or two sooner, I believe you would have made it through before the storm." Elrond paused. "And who are you, to invite the wrath of two kings? I know neither of them is exactly reasonable about the other, both holding onto old hurts, but even so I doubt many would expect to be chased after so far."

"I am Tauriel, my lord. I was once the Captain of the Greenwood Guard, before I was banished for offering my aid to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield." Tauriel swallowed. She couldn't lie about this, and yet she feared what he might say to her revelation. "My companion… he is Prince Kíli of Erebor, the younger nephew of Thorin Oakenshield."

"Well. I suppose that would explain quite a lot." Elrond nodded slowly. "Which would mean that his brother, who helped you leave, is none other than the older prince."

"Crown Prince Fíli, yes." Who had asked Tauriel to take care of his little brother, had made her give her word that she would keep him safe. And here she was, having entirely failed that promise. "And the friend who aided us is Prince Legolas."

"A rather fine predicament, I would say." Elrond fell silent, yet Tauriel felt it was better to focus on eating rather than speak up before he did. "It is not an easy fate, to find love in a mortal."

"Yet it is a burden I bear gladly." For all the pain that it would no doubt cause her, she would not have traded it away. She would cry a thousand tears every night before giving away even one of Kíli's smiles. "I know my years with him will be brief, and my years without long and endless. Even so, I would have what little time I am allowed with him, so I will at least have the knowledge of his love to hold in my heart in my loneliness."

"You speak heavy words for one so young. How could you understand the pain of an eternity without the one you love?"

"I cannot, not yet, and I would not claim to do so." Not to this elf, knowing the fate of his line as she did. "But I know that my heart is his, as his is mine, and I will fight any who would part us, no matter who they are."

"You cannot fight the passage of years, my child, or the fleeting measure of a mortal life." Elrond shook his head, some old pain flashing in his eyes. "One day he will be lost to you, or you lost to him, and you will be parted in death if not in life."

"Then I will take my case to the Valar and plead with them, for I belong with him and he with me." Tauriel would not back down here, not about this, not even in front of Lord Elrond himself. "I have already fought a war this winter, my Lord, seen my kin and my friends fall upon the frosty ground. When it comes to blade and arrow we are as mortal as any dwarf or man, and our days hardly endless. I could have been one of those claimed in the battle, could have lost my life without ever knowing love. What number of tears would be enough to mourn my pain then, and who would be left to weep for me?"

This time, Elrond was silent even longer. As he finally spoke, his tone was measured and calm. "You are young, and your heart is even younger. I hope you will not be forced to grow old before your time." He gestured toward the tray. "Eat, and fear not. You and your prince are safe here, for however long you wish to remain. I will show you to him once you have eaten."

Tauriel tried not to hurry too much, but she wasn't sure she had ever eaten so quickly. Elrond didn't comment on it, though, didn't even show much of a reaction. Instead, he waited until she was done, then stood up and gestured toward the door.

"Shall we?"

Tauriel very nearly settled into the familiar position of a guard, feeling somewhat unsettled as the lord instead offered his arm for her. This was most decidedly not how she was used to being treated, but then she supposed it was more appropriate for someone wearing fine dresses instead of armour and weapons.

That, and she had just told him that she was married to a prince. She supposed that did, technically speaking, make her a lady.

Elrond did not hurry overly much, but Tauriel somehow managed not to rush him, however impatient she felt. As he finally came to a stop in front of a door and opened it, though, she decided she'd had quite enough of propriety, hurrying in before him. She needed to see Kíli, needed to know that he was all right, much more than she needed to appear polite right now.

The room was small and lacking any windows, which allowed the small fireplace to warm the air quite considerably. A bed took up most of the space, with Kíli looking quite small in the middle of it. She rushed to his side, yet hesitated about reaching to touch him, her hand hovering just short of touching his arm. His hands were resting on top of the covers, bandaged all over, and her heart clenched at the sight.

"He will live," Elrond said from the doorway, and she felt a heavy weight being lifted from her heart at those words. "We cannot be entirely certain how his hands and feet will fare, having taken the brunt of it, and it is almost certain he will lose a part of his ears, but I promise you he will survive."

"Thank you." Tauriel swallowed, finally allowing her fingertips to brush against his arm. "This is my fault," she murmured. "If I had noticed sooner that the cold was getting to him, I might have found shelter earlier."

"Do not blame yourself. You did what you could, and it is thanks to your perseverance that we found all of you alive before there were any lives lost."

"I suppose so." Tauriel paused, the implications of Elrond's word sinking in at last. "Wait. What do you mean, all of us? We were only two."

"Oh, no, my child." Elrond stepped closer. "My healers assure me there are three of you."

Tauriel tried to respond, but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she sat heavily down on the edge of the bed, her hand sliding down to touch her stomach.

Three. There were three of them. Meaning that somewhere within her there was another little life.

Oh, Kíli could not wake up soon enough.

*

Dís, daughter of Thráin, was not happy.

She had been on the road for a considerable while, and would be travelling another while still, and she was already tired. She might have thought this would also remind her of all the wandering they had done in her youth to find a new home, but really, she had very little time to worry about past memories. She had an entire caravan to keep in mind, supplies to track and routes to plan and attacks to prepare for. There was no time for grieving what had once been, and Dís was nothing if not practical.

And now, she had to deal with elves.

Now, she was not quite as against elves as her brother. Certainly, she was not their greatest admirer, but somehow she had managed to live much the same life as Thorin and yet didn't blame them for everything that was wrong in the world. She certainly wasn't impractical enough to lead her people down to the mountain passes near Moria, where they would almost certainly run into goblins and orc or worse, when there was a much more sensible way of approaching the problem that was Misty Mountains. The elves had access to a mountain pass which saw at least occasional travel, and if she played nice with them she could make things considerably easier for everyone.

Really, it was quite fortunate Thorin had wandered off first. Mahal knew he wouldn't have considered dealing with elves unless someone made him.

The hidden valley was certainly hidden, enough so that she probably wouldn't have found her way there if she hadn't remembered vague stories from her grandfather, who actually had gotten along with the elves to a degree until the treasures dimmed his mind. As it was, she left the rest of the caravan to set up camp and rest while she picked a couple of her most trusted dwarves and headed off to do some diplomacy. She suspected Dwalin would have despaired at her decision to take none but Hiili and Gimli with her, but if she couldn't trust her sister-in-law and young nephew to have her back, then really, no amount of guards could save her.

As they marched down into the valley they were quickly greeted by an elf who looked important, or at least looked like he considered himself important. Never one to back down at the first sight of a bureaucrat, Dís motioned for her companions to stay behind, then stepped forward.

"Dwarves again?" The elf sounded somewhat bemused.

"I am Dís, daughter of Thráin, Regent of Durin's folk in my brother's absence, at your service." She gave more of a curt nod than a proper bow, truly, but her introduction ought to make it clear she wasn't about to scrape the ground for just anyone. "I would speak with Lord Elrond, if he is available. I wish to negotiate passage for my people so we might cross the mountains on our way to Erebor."

"I see." Something in the elf's expression shifted, but it was gone too quickly for her to decipher it. Then, elves were known for being hard to read. "I am Lindir. Lord Elrond is busy at the moment, but if you will follow me, I will show you somewhere to wait and he will join you as soon as he is able."

"Thank you." Dís motioned for her companions to follow, walking after the elf as he turned to go.

She wasn't sure where they were being led, but the way seemed rather long and complicated. She had just about decided to ask him exactly where they were headed when something to the side caught her attention. They were following along a walkway set some ways above the ground, and below them was an open field set up for archery practice. There was a row of targets at one end, and a row of archers at the other, loosing an arrow after arrow in perfect sync without error. For a split second she wondered if Lindir had brought them this way with the purpose of demonstrating elven fighting skills as some subtle threat or warning, but then she caught on to the more obvious point of interest.

One of the archers was much shorter than the others.

She might have dismissed this as a young elf training beside the older ones, after all, even elves had to have children sometimes. However, even at some distance she could tell this was no weedy elfling still short of their true growth, with the light frame and silky locks that marked their older kin. No, the shorter figure was nevertheless stockier than any of the others standing in the row, limbs thick with firm muscle and chest broad in a way that made their fine elven garb seem rather ill-fitting. Her feet frozen, she stared as this short, broad figure drew another arrow from the vine at their back, nocked it on his bow, drew the bowstring back and loosed the arrow all in one smooth motion.

She knew this sight, had seen it countless times, had watched it develop into this effortless skill from the first fumbling attempts of a child. She would have known this silhouette in her sleep, knew it well enough now even though it was partly disguised under elven clothes and strangely braided hair.

"Kíli!" The figure below turned, but she didn't pause to see if it was in recognition or simple surprise. Ignoring the shocked sounds from her companions and Lindir's rather suspicious silence, she drew her axe from its holster at her back, hooking the blade on one of the edges of the walkway before swinging herself down by the handle. She only barely took the time to actually drop the axe down on the ground instead of leaving it hanging precariously on the edge before rushing over to the archers, who by now had all turned to look toward her.

It was Kíli. There was no mistaking him now, not this close, this was her precious baby boy standing among the elves as though he belonged here. There was surprise on his face as he recognised her, and something that almost seemed like a moment of fear, but before she could truly analyse or question it he had already set down his bow and reached out his arms for her.

It had been far too long since she had embraced her son, far too many lonely days and fearful nights. She was going to make up for all that now, thank you very much, wrapping her arms tight enough around Kíli to draw him off his feet despite his having some height on her. She heard noise from around them, Hiili and Gimli calling after her and the elves starting to talk, but none of that was important enough for her to pay any actual attention.

"Ma," Kíli murmured, his arms coming around her as well, and oh, she had missed that sound. "Ma, feel like setting me down?"

"I hope you feel like giving me some explanations," she huffed in response, but nevertheless let him get down on the ground. "You were supposed to be in Erebor with your uncle! What are you doing here playing with elves, and why has nobody informed me?"

"Ah." Kíli winced. "It's… kind of a long story?"

"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure we have plenty of time on the way to Erebor."

"No." This time, the answer was immediate and firm. "I'm not going to Erebor."

"You… what?" Dís took a step back, trying to absorb the full ridiculousness of that statement. "Of course you are! Now, I don't know why you're here, if you're practising your archery or whatever, but you are damn well coming home with me!"

"It's not my home." There was defiance in his voice, yes, but it wasn't just that. There was a hint of pain there, too, and oh, if this was Thorin's doing he had better count himself lucky there were still a number of miles between Dís and him. "I'm sorry, Ma, but I can't go. You'll have to go without me."

She made to answer, then paused. Earlier, she had been focused on all the familiar things, all the signs that marked this young dwarf as none other than her beloved son. Now, she took a moment to take in the differences as well, and they made her blood run cold.

His beard was gone, but that was not much of a surprise. Kíli preferred to keep his trimmed to little more than a stubble anyway, lest it get in the way of his bowstring, and here among elves he wouldn't have any reason to keep up even that feeble pretence. Dís might not have been a great fan of the idea, but she was practical above all and agreed with Kíli that having his beard yanked out strand by strand was hardly the superior choice. The clothes were sensible, too, however unfamiliar their style. He wouldn't exactly have access to dwarven clothes here, and at least they had tried to make an effort to make the clothes fit him even though he was broader and shorter than any of the elves surrounding them right now. Kíli had grown since she had last seen him, too, not exactly taller but with his shoulders and arms settling more into the stocky build of an adult dwarf instead of the lanky dwarfling he had been when he left. All this was to be expected, for all that she might not have liked every aspect of it.

His ears, though…

At first she hadn't noticed, or had perhaps thought it some trick of her eyes, had thought his ears were covered by hair for the most part. As she paused to look now, though, she saw that this could not be the case, with his hair drawn away from his face and tied back. It wasn't that his ears were covered and that was why she couldn't see them. There simply wasn't much to see, and what little there was seemed awfully… pointy.

"Kíli?" she asked, struggling to keep her voice level even as Hiili and Gimli finally reached her side and both gasped in shock. "What have they done to your ears?"

Someone was extremely lucky right now that Dís, daughter of Thráin, did not have her axe at hand.

*

Kíli was going to kill Lindir.

No, that wasn't true. Lindir was actually quite pleasant now that they had gotten over the mutual awkwardness that had dominated their interactions at the beginning of their stay. Not to say that the other elves weren't, in fact he had been quite surprised at how many of the Rivendell elves seemed to be perfectly fine with his presence after some initial wariness, but Lindir had done the most at helping them settle in and had thus become something of a favourite for Kíli. Oh, Lindir was clearly still sometimes shocked by some proof of just how differently dwarves thought about certain things, but the point was, Kíli had grown rather fond of him. Except now Lindir had apparently conspired to have his mother find him, without any prior warning or even time to prepare, and for that, Kíli was less than happy with him.

Oh, it had definitely been on purpose. He knew Rivendell well enough by now to know there had been absolutely no reason to lead Dís and her company right next to the archery range on their way to meet Elrond. And if that hadn't been enough proof, Lindir had mysteriously vanished as soon as all the dwarves had turned their attention to Kíli.

Said dwarves, all three of them besides Kíli, were now in his rooms. Well, his and Tauriel's, though she was not here at the moment, which he counted as a blessing. As much as he would have appreciated her support, this was going to be difficult enough even without dropping all the information on them at once. At least he had managed to convince his mother to follow him inside, rather than have everything blow up out in the open with a dozen elves following every word.

"Ah. Can I offer you something?" Because even if the situation was less than ideal, he wasn't going to let his mother say that staying with elves had made him forget his manners.

"An explanation would be great, thank you." His mother looked nothing short of murderous, though Kíli was fairly sure it wasn't directed at him. "Along with a very good reason for why I shouldn't just take my axe and start lopping off elf heads."

"Aside from the fact that Lord Elrond actually has quite a few trained soldiers and you are only three?" Because he would not be taking part in that fight, if it came to pass. "I owe my life to them, if that makes any difference."

"I for one am quite curious to know how that happened." Aunt Hiili looked almost as angry as Dís, though she at least hadn't made any overt threats. Not yet, anyway. It wasn't much of a surprise; the line of Li in general was rather more positive in their personality than the often moody house of Durin. It made rather interesting mixes, in Kíli himself and his brother, and in Gimli who was cheerful and silver-tongued one moment and spouting off curses the next.

"My companion and I were caught in a snow storm while crossing the mountains." Again, better avoid complications for now. "I very nearly froze to death, and would have been surely lost if the elves hadn't found us in time. Lord Elrond's healers saved my life and nursed me back to health, but my ears had such bad frostbite, even their skills could not save most of them."

"Or they said so just to have an excuse for this — this travesty!" His mother waved toward him with a wavering hand. "I bet they are laughing at you behind your back, having turned you into some — mockery of an elf!"

"I have been told by rather trustworthy witnesses that there wasn't much left of my ears after they removed the pieces dead from frostbite." Tauriel had seen the damage, and even if he hadn't trusted Elrond's healers — which he did, he had no reason not to — he knew she would not have lied to him. "They asked me what I wanted them to do with what little was left. I figured that having the remnants sewn up to be whole and pointy, however scarred, was slightly less terrible to look at than rough edges and tears."

"I'm still not convinced it was necessary." Dís looked like she was just about to start growling. Or possibly reaching for her weapons, again.

"Why were you crossing the mountains in the first place?" Gimli spoke up for the first time now, turning away from the window where he had been looking out to the valley beyond. He had been rather unusually quiet the whole time, though whether that was from wariness around elves, awe at their strange surroundings, or some combination of both, Kíli couldn't be sure. "Weren't you supposed to be in Erebor, with everyone else?"

"Or would this tie back to how you can't go to Erebor?" And, of course. His mother had always been sharp.

"I ran away." Better get that out of the way first off. "Thorin and I didn't see eye to eye, and neither of us would back down, so I left and planned to come to you, in hopes of finding an ally against him. Except then the storm happened, and it took me a while to recover after that. Now I'm mostly better, but according to the elves frostbite can sometimes cause problems months later, so they are still not certain my hands weren't damaged for good."

"And what exactly would cause you to argue so?" Dís narrowed her eyes. "Or, rather, what would cause you to argue so that Thorin wouldn't even tell me that you have left?"

"No doubt he didn't want to speak to you about the cause of our argument." Not that Kíli could blame him, really. He was still feeling somewhat awkward about it, himself, and unlike Thorin he found no shame in his choices.

"You mentioned a companion." And of course Hiili would make note of that. "If you meant Fíli, you would have said so. So who would you take along, rather than your brother?"

There were several ways he could have approached the issue. He could have been blunt, or perhaps taken a more joking stance, or tried to break the news gently. In the end he hadn't yet made up his mind on the best method when the choice was rather stolen from him by the opening door.

"Kíli?" Tauriel stepped into the room. "Lindir said something about — oh." She froze in the doorway, one hand still on the doorframe, her eyes on their three guests. Her other hand was resting on her belly, which was still small but already had a gentle curve to it rather unlike her usual slim figure. She had developed a habit of touching it, though, especially whenever she was worried about something, which Kíli found rather endearing but which now made certain facts quite obvious to everyone.

"Right." Kíli stood up from where he had been seated, striding over to Tauriel's side. He had no shame in his choices, and would not let anyone think he did by showing hesitation where there ought to have been none. "Tauriel, let me introduce our guests. This is my mother, Princess Dís, and her companions are my father's sister Hiili and her son Gimli. Mother, aunt, cousin, may I introduce Tauriel, my wife and the reason I left Erebor."

"Your wife, you say." Dís narrowed her eyes. "And I'm guessing she isn't just fond of elven food?" At this, her eyes dropped meaningfully to Tauriel's belly.

"We have been blessed." Kíli set a hand over the one Tauriel had on her own stomach, reaching his other behind her back as he met his mother's gaze defiantly. "Before you ask, no, we were not aware of this when we left. However, Thorin would not allow our courtship, so we chose to flee rather than be parted."

"And she is the companion who brought you over the mountains?" Now Dís stood up as well, stepping closer. Her expression was hard to read.

"Aye, she is." Kíli nodded, tensing up despite himself. He knew his mother, knew she would not attack someone bearing a child no matter what her opinion of them, but he still couldn't help the urge to defend his wife. And what was his life that he thought he needed to defend anyone from his own mother? "She summoned help when the cold got too harsh for me, and kept me warm until we were found."

"I see." Dís came to a halt a few steps away from them, looking up at Tauriel, who met her gaze more calmly than Kíli could have managed. Thank Mahal for the nerves of elves. "You are married, are you? I'm assuming it was an elven wedding."

"Indeed." And no, he was not going to clarify that. They did not need to discuss such things, it was clear enough from the present circumstances that a marriage had been consummated, thank you. "We didn't exactly have a dwarf at hand willing to wed us."

"Well, we'll have to fix that once you get back to the mountain." Dís frowned, tapping her foot impatiently. "Get down here. You're really needlessly tall."

"Ah. I am sorry for that?" Now Tauriel seemed a bit baffled, but went down on one knee, bringing her almost eye level with Dís. Kíli settled his arm around her shoulders now instead, not wanting to draw away from her.

The next moment he was pushed aside anyway, as Dís stepped forward and drew Tauriel into a firm embrace. Tauriel gave a startled sound before hesitantly reaching her arms around Dís in turn.

"Thank you for loving my fool of a son," Dís murmured as she finally let go and stepped back. "He needs someone to be his sense, since he has none of his own."

"Hey!" Kíli protested, though without much vigour. He wasn't about to complain when his mother was busy giving her approval to his wife.

"Thank you, Lady Dís." Tauriel smiled, though she looked still somewhat bemused. "I do not think I was given much choice in the matter, however."

"Oh, none of that! Call me Dís, or Mother if you prefer. I won't have you ladying me, not unless we are in public court!" Dís shook her head. "Always wanted a daughter, and Fíli doesn't seem likely to be bringing in one, so I'm not going to protest just because Kíli's love is a bit tall." She narrowed her eyes. "You can fight at least, can't you? I've heard some of you she-elves are quite useless on the battlefield."

Tauriel actually managed a chuckle. "I served as Captain of the Greenwood Guard for some time before I met Kíli, so I would hope I have some skill in that."

"She kind of killed Azog's son," Kíli added with a grin. "And saved my life when I was addled with orc poison."

"A fighter and a healer! So practical." Dís nodded. "Now, don't you children worry about Thorin one bit! I'll set him straight as soon as I get to Erebor. I'm supposing you won't want to come with us, if Kíli's hands still need to be watched and after that you'll have to worry about the babe, but I'll make sure that when you get around to it he'll be rushing to welcome you back."

"If anyone can do that, it's you." Kíli smiled. "Thank you, mother. I'm glad you can accept Tauriel."

"I suppose I ought to offer my congratulations as well." Hiili drew closer now. "Or would that be condolences? I married into the house of Durin and so did my brother. If anyone knows the trouble of that, it's me."

"What, are you saying I would be a difficult person to be married to?" Dís lifted her eyebrows. "Why, my dearest sister-in-law, I am shocked. How could you say such a thing?"

"Oh, I would never say that." And yet Hiili was smirking. "Why, can you think of any reasons why you might be complicated to deal with?"

It was a good thing Kíli knew his mother and aunt both well, or he might have been concerned about how this was going to end. As it was, he simply grinned and helped Tauriel back to her feet, holding her close and watching the two bicker good-naturedly until Lindir appeared to inform them that Lord Elrond would very much like to invite their three guests to join his table for dinner, so they could discuss the details of leading Dís's caravan through the valley and to the mountain pass beyond.

And, all right, he wasn't going to kill Lindir, even though this had clearly been planned without ever asking Kíli how he would prefer to handle telling his mother.

That still didn't mean he wasn't going to slip a frog in Lindir's clothes one of these days.

*

Kíli had never thought too much about drawing a bow.

Oh, his choice of weapon had caused him plenty of thought, given how almost everyone seemed to find it their absolute right to criticise him for it. His mother and aunt were the only ones who hadn't ever said a bad word about it, as it had been his father's weapon of choice, the rightful tool of a hunter. Thorin had been somewhat grudging in his acceptance, grumbling about how there would have been so many better weapons for him to master, and Fíli, while not hostile, had sometimes made fun of him for his choice. Others who were not so close to him or his father's family were less gentle, some even saying quite harsh words about his bow and arrows and how they were the weapon of a coward or an elf. Kíli had never cared much about such things, of course. It had been his father's weapon, and besides he felt himself better suited for hunting grounds than the battlefield anyway. There his bow was an extension of him, a tool for taking down his prey, and even if his family might have sometimes made fun of him for keeping his beard so short or only training with his sword when he had to, they had never complained when he managed to bring back some game for them.

Here, nobody had questioned his choice beyond their first surprise at a dwarf drawing a bow, and yet Kíli had been thinking about his bow more than ever before their arrival in Rivendell.

He was at the archery range now, visiting it almost every day. Tauriel sometimes joined him, though less often now, complaining that her growing belly was getting in the way of her longbow. Other times he trained with some of Elrond's elves, who shot at targets when they didn't hunt wargs come far from their usual grounds. This time, he was very nigh alone on the training field, only a couple of others aiming at their own targets, each ignoring the others.

It was a familiar routine, one he could have probably gone through in his sleep. He drew his arrow, nocked it, drew the bowstring back and finalised his aim before loosing the shaft. His breathing was in perfect rhythm with his movements, his body sliding from one action to another almost without pause. He was getting faster, he knew that, loosing an arrow after another with much greater speed than he could have before without sacrificing his precision. This was a skill for the battlefield, where every wasted second might mean death, and not for the hunt where he only had one target at a time and no second chances. Even so, for all that he hoped he would not take to battle any time soon, he delighted in learning new things.

The bow was new, made for him by one of Elrond's people, slimmer and lighter than his own bow yet just as suited for his build and strength. It had been a gift to celebrate the good news: Elrond and his healers were now certain that there had been no long-lasting damage to his hands, certainly nothing that could have affected his ability to shoot. A bow for an archer, a bowstring he could draw without pain or difficulty. It was hard to imagine a gladder gift he could have received.

Tauriel had combed through his hair that night as he knelt before her, humming quietly while he spoke to her belly and the babe within. His hands had rested on her belly, attempting to cradle the hidden life, and for all that he had delighted in hearing the good news he had known he would have given up all his good health and his working hands in a heartbeat for the sake of that sweet little babe.

Tauriel, being the endlessly practical person she was, had told him not to dream of such things as she was quite insistent on having him do his own part when it came to caring for the child and changing diapers, and he could not do that if he went and ruined his hands. This had caused him to laugh and suggest a few other things where his very well working fingers might give her some satisfaction.

It was a fortunate thing indeed that their rooms had a door that shut very tightly.

He had just finished his practice, collecting his arrows and strapping his bow to his back, as he heard someone calling his name. Turning to look, he found Lindir standing at the edge of the archery range.

"Lindir!" He walked over, adjusting the last couple of arrows in his vine. "Is something the matter?"

"A letter has arrived for you." Lindir looked somewhat harried, though Kíli had no idea why. "We would appreciate it if you would come and speak with the messenger."

"Oh?" He could hardly imagine why his presence was so urgent for dealing with a messenger, but clearly Lindir had some reason for his request. "Sure, I'll come along."

As he followed Lindir, it very quickly became obvious just why he was needed. Instead of an impatient dwarf, or even some elf who might have been roped into delivering a letter, a large raven was sitting on the railing of a balcony, eyeing everyone who approached with mistrust. As it saw Kíli, though, it croaked in delight.

"There you are!" the bird announced, hopping from foot to foot. There was a letter resting on the railing next to it. "These dumb things couldn't speak a sensible word if their lives depended on it! It's because they have no proper feathers, let me tell you, that's the problem with them all!"

"I suppose that would be the case. They're not altogether useless, though, since they seemed to realise you were here for me." Kíli chuckled, taking the letter in his hand before offering his arm to the raven. "Come along, I'm sure we'll find you something to eat. You must be famished, if you flew from Erebor all the way here."

"Indeed! Food I was promised and food I will have, thank you. It's no short flight, that, and I flew fast besides! You'll have to feed me a whole lot if you want me to make it back as well, that's for sure, it's a long way back to Erebor and not just everyone can do it, not as fast as I can."

"Oh, I'm sure we'll find plenty for you to eat." Kíli waited for the raven to hop onto his arm, then up to his shoulder, before he started walking towards the kitchens. "Who sent you?" He knew it must have been one of his relatives, since the raven could not speak Westron, and no one but a few members of the house of Durin could speak to a raven otherwise.

"The king himself, he did!" The raven spread his wings in a boast, not seeming to notice the way Kíli almost faltered in his steps. "Said this was a very important message, too. I didn't lose it! Many others might have, but I didn't."

"Right. I can see that." Kíli hesitated only for a moment before breaking the seal. If Thorin had known to send the raven to Rivendell, that meant his mother must have already made her way to Erebor and spoken with Thorin. No matter how unpleasant Thorin had been before they fled the mountain, Kíli highly doubted he would dare send anything equally vitriolic after a good talking-to from Dís.

Even so, it was probably best that he read the letter before Tauriel found him and got curious about its contents.

Opening the letter, he instantly recognised his uncle's familiar clear runes. He might have almost felt amused at Thorin's obvious paranoia, choosing a messenger who could not speak to the elves to bear a message most of the elves could not read, but right now, he was far too nervous about the actual contents.

Slowing down his steps so he wouldn't run into anything while he was focused on the letter, he started to read.

_"Kíli,_

_Before I say anything else, I find that I must apologise._

_I acted rashly, and put you in danger as a result. I let my suspicion of all elves colour my perception of your chosen. Fíli has told me about everything she has done for you and for us all, and with the time to consider this in peace, I have come to realise I tried to meddle where I had no right to do so._

_Your mother has informed me about what happened as you travelled away. Let me state that I believed you would be spending your time in Mirkwood, where you would be safe. It never occurred to me that you would try to cross the mountains in the deep winter. If I had realised you were not secure in the forest, I would have sent someone after you sooner._

_Our hearts are made by our Maker, and our Ones are gifts from Mahal himself. If you believe this elf to be your One, then know that I will welcome her into my family and into my house. When you return to Erebor — and I hope you do so with haste, though I know I have no right to make demands of you after the way I have wronged you both — I will have her crowned a princess, as she ought to be._

_I hope you can forgive my foolishness, and all the grief and pain it has caused you. I can only thank Mahal my rashness did not bring even worse pain to us all._

_I await your response. Likewise, your mother and brother would appreciate more recent news from you and your wife both._

_Your uncle,  
Thorin"_

It wasn't until the raven nudged him that he realised he had come to a halt. Folding the letter, he set it under his belt, shaking himself out of his thoughts.

"Well?" And of course the bird would be curious. "Was it good news I carried?"

"Very good." Kíli nodded. "I'm assuming after food you will want to rest? I can have a return message ready for you tomorrow, if you are ready to leave then. Of course, if you want to rest longer, that can be arranged as well."

"I'll fly out tomorrow. I'm a strong bird, thank you! And besides, I want to be back in the mountain." The raven almost looked disdainful, as much as the face of a bird could bear any particular expression. "This place doesn't smell right."

Kíli chuckled. "Oh, I don't know. I've been in much smellier places." Really, he had come to rather enjoy Rivendell, for all that it wasn't exactly a typical place for a dwarf to live. For all that he was rather looking forward to returning to Erebor and seeing all his family and friends, he knew he would also miss this place. But then, they might visit again if Lord Elrond permitted it, this time with hopefully better timing. Tauriel would probably enjoy spending the occasional winter here among her own kin, for all that the elves of Rivendell weren't quite the same as the woodland elves she had grown with.

"Can't imagine what they would be like, then. And I lived in a mountain stinking of dragon!" The raven adjusted his wings. "Are we getting food now?"

He managed not to laugh at the bird's priorities. "Indeed. And once we're done with that, I will take you to my nest, which I share with my mate. I'm sure you'll find a nice perch there to rest until you are ready to leave." He would also have to ask Lindir or someone else for some writing supplies, and find Tauriel besides. They needed to decide what exactly they were going to tell Thorin in response.

It now occurred to him he didn't even know if his mother had told Thorin about the child they were expecting. Perhaps it would be best not to mention the matter. If she hadn't told, it would be better to surprise Thorin with the actual child, rather than the news of expecting one. If he knew his uncle at all, even Thorin couldn't work himself into a new rage when faced with a babe, even a half-elven one.

Yes, that sounded like a good idea. They would wait another year, for the babe to be born and grown a little, and then make it over the mountains before another winter. Perhaps Lord Elrond would send someone with them, or they could arrange for a few dwarves to come from the mountain to travel along with them. It would certainly ease his mind to have others helping him take care of his wife and the child who would be with them on the journey. Not that Tauriel wasn't perfectly capable of taking care of herself and Kíli besides, as she had demonstrated quite aptly on their way here, but Kíli rather suspected crossing the mountains with a babe in tow would be rather more troublesome than when it had been just the two of them, even if the weather might be more agreeable.

There was time, though. Time to speak with Tauriel about the letter and what they wished to say, and to wait for the babe to be born and grow, and then time to make their way back to Erebor without too much hurry until they were finally back in the mountain and he could introduce his lovely little family to everyone.

Unlike the last time they had set out on the road, he was absolutely certain things would be all right in the end.

If he was whistling a bit as he walked along with the raven still on his shoulder and an elven-made bow at his back, well, he supposed nobody would have blamed him for being so very cheerful over this.


End file.
